Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Not Quite Linear Sad Poem Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Saturday 11/02/2013 12:42:00 AM

sold the dark. pieces at a time. little cuts. quick jabs. suffocated dolls. chewing on their tongues. quiet armies massaging their guns. the numbers always find us. long division of the cruelest kind. our journey takes us no further than the places we've always been.

broken colors search for the swtich. the stark choke of light that solves for the edge.

touching. the scrape of skin. generous scabs. tame the wounds. discpline the bruises.

the hunt comes and goes. a pendulum of flesh. counts the fading moments.

be patient. the day eventually forgets. how close we were.

2 comments:
J.A. Thompson said...

"quiet armies massaging their guns"

Love this image. Can't get it out of my head.

alcholic poet said...

thanx. it's always interesting to learn about which imagery affects whom and how. appreciate your feedback very much.




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